


Safe, Please

by lillullaby



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Anal Sex, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Lack of Communication, M/M, Oral Sex, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-30
Updated: 2013-12-30
Packaged: 2018-01-06 17:12:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1109430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lillullaby/pseuds/lillullaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Andy is more comfortable with Joe’s life style in theory than in reality.  He's looked the monster in the eye and doesn't like him at all. </p><p> </p><p>Or</p><p> Where Andy gets naked a lot to keep Joe from going out partying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safe, Please

**Author's Note:**

> I needed to post this so I wouldn't re-write it AGAIN. 
> 
> The idea behind Joe living his rambunctious teenaged life, and Andy freaking out more than is necessary.  
> One bad incident don't make the druggy.  
> (Both of these things are shit Andy and I have to work on.)

Stop.

 

Andy wants to scream for Joe to just stop and stay home, stay with him on the bus. Joe alway runs up, throwing him and invitation to whatever club or party or kegger he’s about to disappear to for the next 6-12 hours. Joe knows he’ll never say yes, always makes the offer though, and with a peck on the lips he’s gone, yelling ‘I love you’ behind him. He knew it was sincere, but started to hate the feeling that came along with the words. The bitterness on his tongue lasted hours after Joe was gone.

 

But that's who Joe is- he’s a social butterfly in all the ways Andy isn’t. Andy’s idea of a good time is a few friends and a movie or go for a walk. Joe ran off to talk to people to as soon as the bus stopped, full of laughter and light conversation. People loved him (how could they not? Joe was charming. His humor was universal and he was just a genuine, nice guy.) Joe’s energy just fed off the attention. 

But that isn’t the problem (could never be the problem). Joe is an extrovert, and it was one of the things Andy respected and loves about him. The way he can take anyone in and make them feel important, how he keeps things alive and comfortable. Andy is the textbook definition of an introvert, and it's something Joe has taken in stride. Andy never has felt the need to legitimize his personality type around Joe- and Joe has never given him a reason to. 

 

No, it isn’t the fact that Joe is universally loved. It also isn’t that Andy wants him all to himself. It's his… hobbies.

 

Andy hates watching Joe go, hates when he disappears and Andy is left home to worry. To wonder if he's going to make it back, if he will stop before it became too much. 

But the worry, the gnawing feeling in his gut, is better than the alternative. Better than going with him, or on the occasions he comes home early and is out of his mind. Better than when Andy has to look into his lovers eyes, only to see a whole different beast looking back. One who is incoherent and ridiculous. One who doesn't think before he speaks, and everything he has to say is crude and rough around the edges.  
He isn’t a bad guy, this monster who hides in Andy’s boyfriend, but he isn’t Joe. Not really. Not the one Andy loves. But it looks a hell of a lot like him.

 

It proves everything Andy had ever said about drugs- the whole reason behind his entire moral system. And then again, here he was, dating someone who parties chronically. 

So how the fuck is he supposed to bring it up? How is Andy supposed to just tell Joe that how much he hates it without it sounding like he hates Joe.  
Because he didn’t.

It isn’t Andy’s place to make Joe choose.

It isn’t his place to decide for him.

(Though he might, inadvertently, do just that.)

 

xx

 

It starts out as a gut decision, which Andy is not prone to. 

 

They are on tour with these older guys, and they all happened to be in the venue's lounge at the same time Andy is. They're talking about this rave at a nearby dive bar, and Andy has tried to make it clear he was uninterested, that they should take their conversation elsewhere, but they take one look at the tattoos on Andy’s wrists and decide that he wasn’t worth getting up and moving. The talk about how crazy it's going to be; how some friend of a friend is bringing acid and a party mix and all sorts of shit, and Andy has to get up and leave, just to get away from it. 

 

Right before the show, Joe is talking with these guys from the venue, just chatting it up. Andy comes up to ask Joe’s to help him with his kit, waiting patiently for the conversation to carry out. Which, of course, is when Andy's world gets all turned around. 

“Really? No way man! It sounds like a good time.”

The kid, he couldn’t have been much older than Joe, just nodded wildly, “Yeah, dude the place always throws the biggest raves. You should come.”

“You can count on it.”

Joe finally says bye to the guy, but Andy's head has already checked out. This can not be happening, not again. He can feel his stomach churn and oh, god he’s going to throw up.  
Because it’s one thing to just kiss Joe good bye, happily unaware. (Ignorance is bliss and all that shit.) But to hear all of the crap Joe going out to do- all of the ways Joe is putting himself in danger. This is way, way too much for Andy to handle. 

But before he knows it, Pete is yelling for him to get his shit on stage and it's like he blinks and he’s playing. He feels off a beat for the entire show, but Patrick doesn’t throw a fit, so it’s probably just the beating of his heart in his ears throwing him off. 

He beats the shit out of his drum set, trying to find some solution. Trying to figure out how: How to fix it, how to go back in time and keep Joe from ever hearing about this stupid party. 

All he comes up with by the end of the night is that he should just talk to Joe. What could happen? (A lot of things. Bad things.)

But apparently, his head isn’t ready for that, because as soon as they get close enough, Andy throws Joe into a supply closet and kisses him desperately.

He’s shoving his tongue down a very surprised Joe’s throat when he finally responds, giving as good as he gets. His tongue shoves into Andy’s mouth, fighting to dominate the kiss. There's a hand clamping down onto the drummer’s hips, dragging him closer. Andy can feel the rough callouses dig into his skin, and hopes they leave bruises. 

Joe gets a hands in Andy’s hair, tangled tight and tugging on his scalp. He lets Joe take over the kiss, lets him explore and take. Because Joe is here, and Andy will take anything he can get as long as he stays put. Joe pulls Andy off him, gasping for breath. Andy can see the question on his lips, can feel it bubbling in Joe’s chest, and No. No way. Andy can’t, just can’t, right now. 

He growls at Joe, pulling Joe’s hand from his hair, and sliding down onto his knees, hands pushing up Joe’s shirt as he goes. He gets his fingers on Joe’s fly, biting at the skin just below his navel. He can taste the salt in the hair there, the dark happy trail, knowing the way it makes Joe shiver. 

 

Joe squirms, and makes a sound a little like a squawking bird. Andy giggles, looking up at Joe through his eye-lashes. Joe’s eyes are wide, mouth red and raw, looking down at his with confused wonder. Andy feels his stomach flutter- he put that look there. Just him, no pills or needles needed. Just Andy. He wonders how much farther he could push Joe, how he could prove just how good him and Joe could be- all on their own.

He drags Joe’s pants down, getting them to his thighs before wrapping a hand around the base of Joe’s cock and swallowing it down. Joe chokes out a moan above him, hands going right back to And’s hair, tugging harshly. Andy just hums, starting rhythm with his hand and mouth.

Joe never makes it to the party.

 

xx

 

Any really doesn’t mean for it to become, like, a thing. If he had stopped to think about it, he would have realized how fucked up it was. Joe always done shit like that to him. Just him being around fucked with head. Forced him to do things out of character, made him stutter and blush, say and do stupid things before thinking first. This seems like just another one of those times. It just worked so damn well- and it wasn’t hurting anyone, so Andy figures, Why not?

 

xx

 

He gets his arm around Joe's middle after a show, pulling him against his front while they’re watching the other bands, grinding subtly against his ass. He feels, instead of hears, Joe’s gasp in reaction. From the outside, you just see Andy up close, smashed in by the rest of the crowd. Joe’s breathing grows heavy, pushing back harder against Andy’s motions.

By the time the band’s set is done and the rest of the crowd it moving around, Joe’s body is practically vibrating. He grabs Andy’s arm, pulling him toward the bus. Andy didn’t even know Joe could move that fast. 

 

xx

 

They weren’t dating when it got bad. When Joe was experimenting with anything he could get a hold of. Andy would find him with track marks up and down his arms, raw nostrils, and pills of questionable origin. 

Those were dark days. Andy tried really hard not to think about it.

Those days, Andy wasn’t guaranteed to see Joe for hours on end. He stopped expecting him to come back to the bus at all.  
He came crashing in one night, barely able to stand up. Andy muscled him onto the couch. He reeked if stale beer, sweat, and rubbing alcohol. He pulls back to get a a good look at him and fuck, who is this guy?

It was definitely not joe.

His pupils were blown wide, red and bloodshot. They lolled off to the side, not able to even focus on Andy. The area around his mouth was raw and blistered. The drummer slid his fingers in Joe's mouth, and pulled his lips back to find bloody gums.

 

"Oh, Joe, what have you done to yourself."  
He made Joe drink water, and sat with him on the couch the whole night to make sure he kept breathing.

 

Joe didn't wake up the same. He stayed in the same haze, and was practically a different person, for three more months. 

Or maybe it's just that Andy didn’t forgive him for it for a while.  
Joe (or this monster that has taken over Joe's brain and turned it to mush) didn't notice.

 

xx

 

There's more than one occasion of Joe walking in to grab his jacket or phone and him turning the corner to the bunk to find Andy in various states of undress. 

Andy's not exactly proud, but it always reaps good results.

 

xx

 

Andy has nightmares, sometimes. Nightmares of Joe dead in an alley, bloody or knocked out along a street. Unable to protect himself or call for help.  
The nightmares eat Andy alive.

 

xx

 

They have a hotel night, and Patrick and Pete are going out to get hammered. Joe’s planning on going, Andy knows he is. It’s the nature of hotel nights- it gives Joe the opportunity to go out, get smashed, and come back to sleep it off until 3 o'clock in the afternoon. It’s practically harmless, just a night at a regular bar. 

Andy's quiet in the elevator, stuck in his own head during their ride up to the rooms. Joe heads straight to the shower, ready to wash the post-show sweat off. Andy sits on their bed, mulling over his options. He knows it’s unrealistic, this expectation he’s gotten used to. Joe’s just going out for a drink, nothing to big, but it still makes Andy’s stomach tie up in knots. 

(Gives him flashes back to nightmares and memories of unfocused eyes.)

It takes him a minute before he’s naked and climbing under the stream of water, pressing himself against the line of Joe’s back.  
Joe giggles happily, turning around in the drummers strong arms, tracing the patterns on his chest. 

“Hi, you.” the giggle is still stuck in his voice.  
Andy smiles, letting his tension go and concentrating on Joe’s touch. The taller man curls over, kissing him warm, sweet and wet. Andy instantly feels better. They stay like that for a while, just enjoying each other and the intimacy. But then Joe pulls away to rinse his short hair out, and it takes way quicker than Andy would have liked.

“Do you want me to leave the water on? Or are you good?” Joe’s smile is so genuine that it makes Andy feel bad for how mad he feels at the words. He pushes the automatic nasty response down and, not trusting his words, pulls Joe back against him. 

The fuzzy relaxed feeling is long gone, replaced with a desperate need. For anything Joe will give him, for any way to keep Joe from leaving. 

He kisses him hard, and pushes him against the wall of the shower hard. Joe gasps at the cold tiles, hissing.

 

“Wh-What? Andy-” 

 

Andy just groans, pushing his thigh between Joe’s legs, grinding down against his slick skin. Joe’s head bangs back against the wall, eyes rolling back. Andy hums happily against the taller man's neck, sucking a bruise at the junction between his collar and neck. Joe’s dick twitches hard where it’s trapped between their bodies, and Andy has never been so relieved.

Joe’s hands go straight to Andy’s hips, where his fingers have always fit so perfectly, guiding Andy’s movement.

 

But it’s not enough; he doesn’t know how, but Andy needs more. Needs to find something that Joe can’t say no to, needs to guarantee Joe won’t leave him.

 

He grabs Joe’s hand, pushing it down, toward his ass sliding it to where his thighs meet the curve of the cheek. Joe’s hips hitch along with his breath.

 

“Yeah?”

 

Andy nods hard, because yes. Definitely. Always. He doesn’t trust his voice, though, afraid it’ll betray him; give away how scared he is that Joe’s going to go.

Joe whines, high and needy.

He pushes Andy out of the shower, fingers already trailing between the cleft of his ass, dipping in to trail across his hole. The touch sends electricity through Andy’s entire body, making skin raise in goose bumps.

Joe just laughs a little, guiding Andy to the bed, and moving to dig through Andy’s bag, coming back with the lube and condoms. He wastes no time sliding a slick finger into Andy, knowing how much he hates being teased. Andy almost wishes he would drag it out, though, just to keep Joe close. 

 

“I missed you, baby...” Andy nods back, and lets out a little hiccuped whimper.

Joe gets three fingers in, stretching and scissoring Andy open and so so so much but also not enough. 

 

Andy chokes out “Joe”, flapping a hand at him to get a move on. It comes out just as small and broken as Andy was afraid of, and he hopes Joe will write it off as desperation. Joe looks up, a small line starting to form between his eyebrows (and, no, he's going to move. He's going to ask what's wrong) before Andy grabs at him, pulling him up to kiss messily, reaching a hand down to grope at Joe’s dick.

 

Joe seems to get the picture, finally pulling up to rip the condom open and roll it on. Then- finally- he’s lining up and pushing in and Andy lets out a sigh of relief.

He lets his mind go fuzzy and blank, lets Joe arrange him however he wants. Just enjoys feeling Joe there, feeling stretched wide and full. Joe's hands move up to cradle Andy's face, waiting for him to relax and give him the OK to start moving. 

Andy can feel Joe’s guitar callouses against his cheek and they feel like heaven. He cants his hips down, pushing against Joe to get them moving and this is Andy's favorite part. 

When Joe just starts to get a rhythm going, when it's a little uncoordinated and Joe's hands scrabble for purchase. When he screws his face up, trying not to come too early (Joe one time said that Andy's ass was magic and had the power to take away any and all of his stamina- and suddenly he's 13 again and almost shoots too soon. Andy had hit him over the head with a pillow and called him gross.)

Andy feels lost in all of the sensation. In the friction, the way Joe angles to hit his prostate, and all of the fucking love. For a minute, it was like everything was again and they were just Andy and Joe again. 

Afterwards, when they're both satisfied and worn out, Andy lies awake in Joe's arms and wonders when everything went so wrong.

 

xx

Andy will pull Joe away to make out when he’s talking to friends, and or to ask for his help to set up while the others are planning what to do post-show.  
and it’s awful and makes Andy feel like shit.  
This is the opposite of their relationship, and Andy has no idea how to stop.

 

xx

 

Patrick and Andy are playing halo when the metaphorical shit hits the metaphorical fan.

Joe and Pete walk into the bus, and with the comes a huge wave of uncomfortable vibes, Andy can feel it before he even looks up. 

“Patrick, can you give Andy and I a minute?”

“What-?” But Pete just grabs Patrick’s hand, pulling him out of the bus while whispering into his ear. Andy immediately misses them.

He sneaks a look up and Joe, walking to the galley to start up coffee. Joe makes no move to speak for a long time, and Andy wonders if he's waiting for Andy to do it. (There isn't a snow ball's chance in hell thats going to happen.)

“So, are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Joe’s voice doesn’t sound mad, per say, but it certainly doesn’t sound happy, either. Andy takes a cleansing breath, bracing himself for a conversation he knows he doesn’t want to have.

“I don’t know what you're talking about.”

“Cut the crap!” 

Ah, there’s that anger. 

When Andy finally meets Joe’s eyes, he’s met head on with a deeply betrayed look. One he has no idea what to do with. How did they even get to this place? Where he can't even look Joe in the eye. The four feet between them feels like miles, a distance neither of them are ready to brave. 

The younger man runs a hand through his fuzzy hair, and for a minute he looks far older than he has any right to look. (Andy put that there). 

“The past month, Andy… I knew _something_ was up. But- I don’t understand-” Joe groaned, sitting down on the couch. Andy was stuck still. 

“I was talking to some guys. They were all going on about some party last week and one of the brought up that I hadn’t been out on a while. That’s when I realized-”  
Andy interrupts him, he can’t hear him say it.

“Joe, no. I don’t- I didn’t mean. “ Andy shuts up as soon as Joe looks at him, expression hard and hopeless. 

“What _did_ you mean, then? Because I can only see it one way: you don’t want me going out. Is it the guys? Do you not like them? Because that doesn’t make any sense. So what is it?” Joe’s tone says more than his words- he knows exactly what it was. He just wants Andy to admit it, but when Andy opens his mouth nothing comes out.

"So... what? Andy, what? You couldn't talk to me about it? You still can't? Andy, fuck, I can't do that. If we can't talk, that's just _toxic_ , we're worth more than that."  
Well, he has Andy there- he is (of course) completely right.

“Joe.” His name felt heavy in his mouth, “Just. I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t watch you go off, knowing how dangerous some of that shit was. “

“It’s my life, Andy. Mine. Not yours, you don’t get to choose that for me, and I can’t even fucking believe that you think I can't handle my-”

"I don’t! I don’t think that. I just-”

"You didn't even fucking talk to me, you shut me off and chose for me, instead."

"Joe-"

“NO, Andy. Fuck, this is so fucked up.”

Then he was gone, hostile and upset. Andy watches desperately as Joe climbs down the steps to the door. 

Andy falls back against the counter, sliding down to the ground. He fucked up. Big. Now Joe (his Joe) was gone- and god damn it he's crying. His glasses are fogging up and it is entirely his fault and fuck fuck fuck. 

Andy is well on his way to a panic attack when he hears the door open, and no way- he is **not** ready to deal with Patrick or Pete. Not now, not a chance. But, when he looks up, there's Joe, his eyes wide and soft, the hostility is gone. 

"I'm sorry, Andy." Oh god, here it comes. Joe's going to break up with him. "That was shitty of me. I sit here, telling you to talk to me, then I interrupt you and storm off. " Andy just gapes, not sure what to do with that. Joe isn't leaving?

Instead, he sits down in front of Andy, reaching tentatively toward the drummers heavily tattooed hands. He moves like he's afraid of scaring Andy away, like he'll flinch or jump. But that's the opposite of what Andy wants to do- he wants to crawl into Joe's lap and beg him to stay. 

Which is out of character- it's fucked up, needy, and desperate. It's everything Andy isn't. But, then again, the rules have always flown right out the window when it comes to Joe.

 

“It wasn’t supposed to happen.” Andy breathes, fighting back the lump in this throat. “I never wanted to make that choice for you, I never even wanted you to choose. But, it’s so fucking hard, Joe. Watching you go out and lose yourself in all of it. Watch you come home drugged out, and I just-”

Shit, Andy's going to cry again. 

Joe just stops for a minute, watching Andy.  
“I get it’s hard for you, Andy. I know that you live differently than I do. But we’re in this together. And you have to talk to me, we can do this if you just fucking talk to me. I don’t bite, dude.”

“I don't know how. Not about this. Because I can’t ask you to stop, I can’t ask you not to go out and do things you enjoy. I don’t want to, either. I don’t want to keep you from all of that. This all just kind of… happened. And. I just.” 

Joe leans over, gathering Andy up in his arms, hands wiping the tears from his cheeks. Fuck, he **is** crying. 

“That’s what’s confusing me, dude. Because I know you don't want that. But, so far, every time I've tried to go out, you just get naked. Which does, in fact, make a for very good distraction. But it doesn't solve anything…”

“I can’t- I can’t lose you. Not to this shit. And it’s selfish and I hate it.”

“I can take care of myself, dude. You know that, I keep myself sober enough. “

Andy shakes his head, because he knows that. What he doesn't know is how to word his fears, not and have them make any sense. “No, it’s not- Ugh. No. It’s not that. It’s not the drinking or the smoking or the pot. I mean, I don’t love that. But that’s just part of you and shit, I know about that. That’s predictable, I know what to expect, and you can handle yourself. That's fine it's just. Just."

Joe nods, his face moving in Andy’s hair.  
“The harder stuff.”

Andy lets out a breath that sounds more like a sob.“I can’t watch you on acid or that kind of shit again- That’s not an ultimatum! I promise! It’s just. Fuck, dude, that was scary.” Joe lets out a hard breath, like he's been punched. Like he's remembering for the first time, the fuzzy details becoming clear. 

“If you had talked to me about this”, Andy cringes, and Joe just pokes him “No, cut that out. I’m not yelling at you. Just. We can compromise on this shit, dude. Find a middle ground. I can stop with that shit, for the most part, keep my partying lighter. I can work on it. But you have to talk to me, and you have to let me do it my way.”

“I- You still want to-”  
Andy’s not sure how to say 'you still want me?' without actually having to say it. 

Joe rolles his eyes, leaning in to kiss him.  
“Sexual manipulation is my favorite kind. I’m never going to say no to that bitchin' body, man. Never going to happen. Just try to use it for the powers of good, okay? As long as you talk to me, we’ll be just fine. "

 

extra. (compromise)  
It wasn't perfect, but it was pretty damn close.

It takes Joe two more years to wean off the harder drugs entirely. But, he doesn't miss them once they're gone. He sticks to his liquor and pot and the coherence is nice. Andy will come out with him more, now. Drink Doctor Pepper and dance with Joe at bars, like they did before tour. 

Andy will sit outside with him when he smokes, staying upwind, and only complaining a little when he kisses him and his mouth tastes like an ashtray. After Joe gets an electronic cigarette (completely unprompted, for the record), Andy gets even more lax. Joe smokes it around the bus on tour, and Andy gets used to it.

It takes maybe 2 months after tour and Joe’s allowed to smoke it in bed after sex- and Joe's pretty fucking stoked. He was a big fan of the post-coital cigarette and had resigned to himself to a life without when he had started dating Andy. (He would crawl out bed for them, before. But then Andy would complain about how he smelled, and it just wasn’t worth it.)

So one night, they're coming off the orgasm high, and Joe is about to get up to go into the hall for a few puffs, but Andy just grabs him to anchor him on the bed.

"I'll be right back, babe.", Joe runs his finger through Andy’s hair.

Andy doesn’t budge, "No, stay."

"I'm gonna smoke, babe, I'll be quick."

Andy nuzzles closer, looking up at Joe from his place against Joe's chest, "You can stay."

Joe can feel his smile grow a little, cause this is kinda huge, "Yeah?"

Andy just rolls his eyes, but he's smiling too. Joe pulls out his E-Cig, and it's loaded up with the root beer flavored shit (Andy can smell it, like syrup and licorice) and it's such a surreal moment and Andy can't stop giggling. Joe joins in, and they just kiss and it's awesome.

**Author's Note:**

> The straightedge wrote about partying again!  
> Oh, God.
> 
> This doesn't cover all of what I wanted to say, so there will probably be a piece to accompany this from Joes perspective. 
> 
> Andy was not in the right in this situation. He was a little manipulative- and should have talked to Joe first. His attempt was noble, but not good in reality. 
> 
> If it feels like that didn't come across, PLEASE let me know! I honestly am curious if it got lost in my own personal stupid. 
> 
> Thank you lovies. :)


End file.
